The Grandmaster's Past
by justawritingmind
Summary: The warrior Jax is a monstrous fighting force that is often unmatched in battle. However, behind the mask and robes lies a mysterious past ridden with tragedy and suffering.


**1. Finding a Subject**

_All of them were sweating profusely, clenching their fists as their teeth chattered from fear. _

In total, there were over 300 men and women who had been forced against their will to take part in a nation-wide experiment with the purpose of identifying an individual that was superior both mentally and physically in the context of the battlefield.

**In short, the purpose of the census was to identify the most gifted warrior throughout the lands.**

I being a young scholar at the time, was tasked with assisting the professors conducting the experiment with providing them with whatever they may need – tools, materials, coffee and sugar, you know – regulation stuff. However, I was naïve as to the truth of what was happening in reality – the ghastly occurrences behind closed doors.

On the day of the experiment, we gathered all of the participants into a rather spacious (an understatement) metal dome that was at the far end of our laboratory. After making preparations to observe them, I along with the senior professors waited for the Chief of Research to make his announcement over the telecom in that oh – so recognisable tone of his.

_My dearest friends, welcome to my humble research centre._

_Now, to save you further confusion, as I'm sure all of your heads are filled with questions – Who am I? Where am I? When did I get here? When can I leave? I will keep this short and to the point._

_**As of right now, you all belong to me.**_

Conversation and shouts broke out amongst the crowd, hundreds of people shouting – demanding further clarification.

_**You will be silent.**_

Almost immediately, the voices fell silent abruptly.

_Very good. To re- illiterate my point, I said that as of this very moment, you are all the property of yours truly. However, thankfully for some of you I have no need for 350 pieces of meat. So I propose this:_

_**350 people walked into this room. Only 20 will walk out alive. I will give permission for some of those 20 to return to their land of origin.**_

_**When I say the word 'begin,' you will slaughter each other until only 20 are left remaining.**_

I was shocked. Not until just that very moment, had I been informed that such a bloodbath would take place. I was under the impression that we would assess them directly and individually for any signs of potential – not kill the weak off like livestock.

I would like to tell you that I stood up for the people enclosed by metal walls, that I raised my voice and protested. However to tell you that would be untruthful, to have done that would have meant certain death. Our chief see, had powers that I wasn't able to fathom.

_**Begin**_

At first, there was no movement – then a bump of shoulders came, then a murmur, then a shove and then a scream. In a matter of seconds, I was staring at a ferocious battle between people fighting for their lives.

Weapons – swords, spears, staffs and daggers were presented to the fighters from small cages after approximately ten minutes of raging conflict.

Men were decapitated, women were eviscerated, the old were trampled on and the young were broken in two.

I forced myself to watch – to adapt to the monstrosity before me. I believed that I was able to do such a thing, developing inner strength to protect those in need wouldn't be so hard.

After what seemed like an eternity of meaningless slaughter, and many lives being wasted, I spotted a smaller crowd within the main body of participants. "They're forming a circle around something." I said to the other researchers, beckoning them to look. Upon further inspection, I saw that many of the people had their weapons and fists directed at a single man.

A stout gentleman was the first to break the circle and move towards this single figure, lunging with a spear. He was instantly stripped off his weapon and skewered through his right eye.

Without pause, the man quickly broke off the staff end of the spear and striked three rushing attackers coming at him from behind, sending them flying back. A young man (no older than twenty) wielding a sword lunged at him with precision, however almost immediately the man sliced through the boy's arm clean – sword in hand, then promptly removed his head, without bothering to pull the sword from the clasp of the bleeding limb he was holding. He didn't stop, continuing to counter any attack directed at him. Every move resulted in another death caused by this mysterious person. I was in horrified awe. There was nothing that made this man physically superior to the rest. While he was tall, his build and appearance gave no impression of a hardened warrior. And yet people were dropping like fish to the ocean floor of the seas surrounding Bilgewater.

The most peculiar thing was his expression, which did not resemble one of joy, rather portrayed an apathetic emotion – pity, tiredness, boredom.

He continued to move effortlessly about the mass of people. A sword to the gut there, a decapitation there, occasionally leaping into the air and falling back down into the crowd, landing on top of an unfortunate person's skull.

An anomaly came when one of his attacks was blocked by a rather frail looking female – whose weapon of choice was a flimsy looking rapier. The people around the two had obviously lost their will to fight, and had reserved themselves to spectating, praying their lives would not be taken next. Both the man and the woman locked eyes for a brief moment, words were exchanged. While I wasn't able to hear any of their interaction, I watched on as the man simply smiled (the first I had seen him do so) and spun around, delivering a bone crushing elbow to the woman's cheek – rendering her unconscious.

The mindless fighting continued, the man took many more lives until it was as if he was wearing garments doused in red. I had lost track of time when suddenly a large alarm went off throughout the dome and the viewing rooms. The same voice reappeared on the speakers.

_My my! It seems that my expectations have been exceeded. There is more talent here than I would've ever imagined._

I looked down into the battlefield. Corpses were strewn about as far as the eye could see, piled up on to each other in crooked ways. As had been the conditions of the battle, 20 were left standing in various places inside the dome. Some crying, others excreting bodily fluids through oral means and others simply staring on into an unseeable distance. With no surprise to me or the other researchers, the man was standing amidst many corpses, facing away from us. The woman he had had shared a brief moment with was writhing around slowly on the ground, attempting to get up. There was a feeling of relief that could be felt by all of the contestants who had battled hard for their lives and come out on the other end still breathing.

That feeling was short-lived.

_Unfortunately, I believe I shall retract my previous proposition and issue a new order._

_**Gunners, kill everyone except that young gentleman in the cloak and that woman on the ground.**_

Without warning or a chance to protest, panels on the dome walls retracted to reveal heavy artillery guns that laid waste to the targets in a matter of fiery seconds.

The woman on the ground hid underneath another body. The man continued to stand there as if nothing had happened.

_Good._

_Have the medics take that girl away and operated on at once._

_As for you my dear fellow, I first would like to congratulate you on your survival. Out of the 350 retched bottom-feeders that walked into the dome, you dispatched 192._

My God. That number of deaths caused by only one man was almost inconceivable by the likes of me.

_Would you be ever so kind as to tell us what you are called?_

The man did nothing.

_What is your name?_

The man continued to turn his back on us.

_**You will tell me your name.**_

Suddenly, a quiet laugh tumbled out as the man scratched the back of his head, which was covered in thick, brown hair. Slowly, he turned to face us.

"_**My name is reserved for friends. Opponents call me Jax."**_


End file.
